The Cat's Whiskers

By R.E. Bowden and L. K. Bowden

This story is set in Animal World – a topsy-turvy world where all the characters are animals. It is an exciting tale of adventure set in the northern city of Dogchester, where the city police force is led by Detective Chief Superintendent Nellie Trump, a lady elephant. DCS Trump is in charge of a tough, grizzled Detective Inspector, a cat named Tom Grouse, who is pictured on the front cover of this book.

DI Tom joins with a friend, Dame Alice Gobble de-Gook, a turkey, in an exciting adventure - a quest to find the priceless fabulous gold statuette of Felix the Great, stolen by a gang of criminal monkeys, led by a huge, fat orang-utan who calls himself ‘King’ Brian, a ruthless leader who lives in a secret hideaway – a great palace – hidden in the Wild, Wet and Windy Woods . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9781035819263

R.E. Bowden

Robert Bowden is a retired Senior Lecturer in Visual Communications at Wolverhampton University. Robert taught students on a BA(Hons) degree course in Graphic Design. He spent the last ten years of his career teaching computer-aided art and design. Outside of his career, he was a keen boater, and musician, acting as musical director for some ten amateur musicals. He now lives in retirement with his wife in Wirral, Merseyside, returning to his roots. He has now written five novels in various genera, including supernatural fantasy.

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Robert Bowden is a retired Senior Lecturer in Visual Communications at Wolverhampton University. Robert taught students on a BA(Hons) degree course in Graphic Design. He spent the last ten years of his career teaching computer-aided art and design.

Outside of his career, he was a keen boater, and musician, acting as musical director for some ten amateur musicals. He now lives in retirement with his wife in Wirral, Merseyside, returning to his roots. He has now written five novels in various genera, including supernatural fantasy.

Copyright © R.E. Bowden 2024

The right of R.E. Bowden to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035819256 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035819263 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

To my lovely wife, Patricia.

Chapter One

Tough, grizzled, DI Tom Grouse was facing his biggest challenge to date. As a cat, he knew he was in trouble facing his implacable enemy, the hyenas. He didn’t mind their threats and growling much, he was well used to that – it was their hysterical laughing that really hacked him off.

The detective’s tail switched angrily from side to side, always a clue to how he was feeling. Tom was dressed all in black, in jeans and t-shirt. He growled low and menacingly. He was creeping cautiously into a ancient crypt, housed in an equally ancient graveyard and used as a den by the hyena mobsters, who were out on a rampage in the town. Tom hoped that there were not too many of them left on guard. He could deal with them. He had armed back-up on call should he need them. A giraffe uniformed constable, named Lofty, was keeping a look-out for any of the gang returning. With his great height he was ideal for the task, of course.

Tom spoke softly into his mobile, connected to his boss, Chief Superintendent Nelly Trump, a lady elephant and a very well-liked and respected senior copper. She was in charge of the operation, code-named ‘Knickers.’ (Hers’ require some imagination…)

‘I’m entering the building now, boss,’ he whispered. His whiskers were quivering with excitement, his yellow eyes well able to see in the dark.

He put the safety catch off on his pistol and extended both his front paws to the front.

‘Roger that!’ came the terse reply.

The cat crept into the crypt . . .

The smell of hyenas was strong, but partly masked by the aroma of booze, as they were fond of a drink of ale after a day’s busy hooliganism. They always said that they were just wanting a good time. ‘Hyenas Just Want to Have Fun’ was crudely written on a sign outside the doorway of the crypt. But their idea of fun was not appreciated by the good citizens of the town, who had other ideas. The Mayor, a huge fat Pekingese, with his gold chain of office hanging from his thick neck, was always complaining to the police about the behaviour of the hyenas. When he got angry people used to say: ‘Mayor Grunt is having kittens in there - look out!’

As Tom crept further into the crypt, he could see the stone coffins against the walls. The hyena mobsters evidently sat on these when they met together to plan their dirty doings in the town. There were empty beer bottles dotted around, half of them broken where they had been hurled against the walls. There were cobwebs all over the place, many hanging from the curved brick ceiling. Dust lay thick over every surface, except where the villains sat and planned and laughed and joked and told each other exciting tales about their nasty deeds.

Tom crouched low and moved fast into the room but there was nobody around. The room was empty. Oh Jiminy Fiddlesticks!! he roared in frustration. But just then he heard a noise outside. Two hyenas swaggered in, dressed in their usual clothes – ripped jeans and black tee shirts, bearing the lettering: ‘We’re Trouble’ in red. Tom stood his ground pointing his gun at the two entrants. He wondered why Lofty had not warned him about these two. He would have to have a word with him later. As far as the hyenas were concerned, he knew both of them well. They were always in trouble.

‘Right! You two. I’ve got you bang to rights this time. You’re under arrest!’

One of the gangsters spoke up. His name was Cracker Billy. He snarled, ‘you can’t arrest us, copper, we ain’t done nothing, we’ve never been in here before. We just noticed the door was open and thought we’d have a looksee like. Isn’t that right, Al?’

‘Yeah that’s right. You’ve got nuttin’ on us, copper!’ said Al, who’s other name was Capone, so he said. He broke into maniacal laughter.

Tom said, ‘We’ll see about that.’ He spoke into his mobile phone then gestured to the two young hyenas to follow him outside, where two uniformed coppers, both badgers, grabbed them and bundled them into a police car, making sure they didn’t crack their hairy heads as they entered, in the approved manner. The car, driven by a toad, of course, roared away. Both hyenas were laughing away. Just to annoy their captors.

Back at the police station the two suspects were put into separate interview rooms and given cups of tea and ginger biscuits. They didn’t like ginger biscuits. Or tea. But hey! It stopped them laughing. Which was something.

The hyenas were left for an hour, so that they got really angry and started banging on the locked doors, yelling and shouting and cursing until they were exhausted and stopped. This is when Detective Grouse made his move. He sauntered into Interview Room One and confronted the big angry hyena who sat glaring malevolently at him, baring big yellow teeth.

This was Cracker Billy. One of the leaders of the pack who had been in and out of jail all his violent life. He was well-known to the police, of course. He was called Cracker because of his speciality – breaking into safes. Using explosive coconuts. Don’t try this at home.

‘Alright Cracker,’ growled DI Tom, ‘I want information from you, and you’ll stay in this office ‘til you give me what I want, is that clear?’

‘You’ll get nuttin’ outta me, copper. I ain’t no stool pigeon, I’m a hyena and proud of it, like.’ He drew himself up proudly and crossed his arms.

They went at it in this vein for two hours and got nowhere fast. In disgust the detective had to let the two hooligans go. That cat was, by now, dog-tired. He needed a hot cup of milk and a biscuit or two from the Canteen, run by rabbits and hares, as is usual. The head chef, named Peter, was reckoned to make the best carrot pies in the county, sweet and succulent all through. Some horses had joined the police just so they could get those pies! They were famous! And Fabulous. Gosh! Don’t you wish you could have one!

Those rabbits had one fault though – talk, talk, talk, you couldn’t get away. Always rabbiting on about something or other. He! he!

Chapter Two

Tom set off for his home, feeling rather dejected. A dejected detective is what he was, he would have admitted.

He took out his key from his jacket pocket and opened up the door of his sixth-floor flat, calling out to his wife as he entered.

"Queeny, it’s me, I’m home, kitten, get the kettle on my lovely.’

The wife thus addressed, who was a rather gorgeous striped tigress, smiled with pleasure. She was also a police officer and head of The Sweeney, the famous Flying Squad. Obviously, most of the squad were birds, but Queeny of the Sweeney used a helicopter to fly.

She said, ‘Oh good, you’re early for once, darling. Perhaps we can have a game of dominoes before dinner?’

Tom, who loved dominoes, purred with joy.

‘Oh yes, that would be lovely, kitten,’ he replied, and went to fetch the board and the pieces, forgetting his tiredness.

‘White or black?’ said Queeny when the two were settled either side of the dining table. And for a good hour or more they were absorbed in their game.

‘Did you have a good day, dear? asked Queeny, when they had finished their game. Her huge yellow eyes were sparkling in the firelight.